


What a Wonderful World

by Lux_Aeterna



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Music, Dancing, Eventual Smut, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, Jazz Age, M/M, Musician Eren Yeager, POV First Person, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, ereri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:39:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7565740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lux_Aeterna/pseuds/Lux_Aeterna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 1932 and Levi Ackerman is a French immigrant escaping the Great Depression. The last place he'd expect to find himself is in the arms of a charming southern blues musician. During his stay, he is surrounded by two families; one that accepts him regarding they don't share blood or color. And another family that only wants the best for him even if it means changing him. All that's left for him to do is choose a side.</p><p>!!!! Warning !!!!<br/>This is a work of historical fiction. I want it to be as accurate as I can get it. Which implies that there will be offensive language. Those sensitive to racism, segregation and police brutality should not read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dressed_In_Darkness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dressed_In_Darkness/gifts).



> I'm very excited to write this! This should be a bit of a step up from my previous/ongoing fic. I enjoyed it but I have to admit that I really am losing interest. (I will be finishing it.) Originally it was supposed to be a one-shot and I chose to run with a weak plot. And I'd assume that if a writer loses interest in their own story than the audience does as well, so I apologize to my readers for that. Now that I'm getting the hang of writing, things should go more smoothly for this story.  
> A special thank you to Dressed_In_Darkness for always being an inspiration to me (I don't really know how this gift thing works but I saw the button and was like "TRISH!!").

_Late-June,1932_

 

“Pass, please? The train leaves this here station in ten minutes, young man. You should’ve been here quite some time ago.”

He was saying something important, I knew he was but I couldn't pinpoint exactly what. My English was still foggy and it was hard to understand him. Each word leaving his mouth sounded heavy and long like he had a thick wad of peanut butter stuck to the roof of his tongue.

“Pardon?” My voice was quiet and I inwardly chastised myself for being so shaken by a stout man who was two inches below me. Nevermind the thick piece of glass shielding me from him.

His eyes raked up my body to my face, they were as slow and tired as his accent. His cracked lips puckered and his nose and mustache scrunched up like he had smelt something foul. “Great another Frenchie. Gimme your pass.”

The muscle under my sternum tensed and I lifted my suitcase about to place it on the countertop  of the ticket booth- but thinking better of it. Instead, I raised my foot off the ground and bent my knee, using my thigh as a makeshift table while my fingers quickly unsnapped the clips of the sweltering leather case.

I fumbled around for several minutes that had the people in line behind me shifting and clearing their throats impatiently. To make matters worse, a draft picked up and a handful of papers blew out and floated to my feet. I crouched to my knees and picked them up, keeping my eyes on the ground like a dog avoiding a beating.When I got back to my feet I slid the boarding pass which had been buried underneath all the paperwork into the hole in the glass dividing us and he rolled his eyes as if I was a pest he couldn't wait to get rid of. His eyes skimmed it and his heavy stamp came down before he returned the pass and sent me on my way.

The train station felt like a boiler room. The mixture of the baked heat of the sun and the warm steam bursting from the valves of the locomotive had my eyes lazy. Half conscious- I boarded the train and dragged my feet through the cars.

They were crowded and loud, my worry was highly strung at the idea I wouldn't get a seat. I hugged my briefcase to my chest and fixed my attention on the cracks in the wood below me. Counting the shoes beside mine in hopes I’d pass by a seat with only a set of two instead of four. Eventually, I found what I was looking for and my shoulders slumped forward in relief. Whoever it was sitting in the half occupied booth wasn't wearing shoes. What I saw from the ground up was two small feet clothed in yellowed socks with three toes peeking through holes in the already thin material. I sat down and looked up to be greeted with the sight of a young boy. His eyes were wide and his thin frame was frozen. 

He looked as if a wild beast had seated itself next to him and I can’t say my expression was any different. The boy's face was darker than the insoles inside my dress shoes, I’d never seen anything like it in my life. I had the urge to pull out the sketchpad from my suitcase and scribble his rounded features, but I pushed the desire away. Mother would have told me that was rude.

As soon as the thought of my mother came to my mind, I stumbled around my head for my manners. Stiffening up, my nostrils flared with the rush of air I took through my nose and pushed out of my mouth. I forced my most welcoming smile and extended my clammy hand forward. “Hello!”

He slid backward against the car window and I faltered, my hand twitching away and my lips dropping. Maybe, I said the wrong word? Or maybe, he had never seen a Frenchman. Odds were I looked as unfamiliar to him as he did to me.

I leaned away, my palm receding back to my side. I was ready to assure him I wasn’t dangerous. I was simply, taking a train into town like him but before I could speak someone shouted. I paused noticing how silent it had gotten in the train car after the fact. My popped head up to look around, seeing everybody in the train car staring at the seat I was sitting in. I wondered if immigrants weren't allowed in this train car or if maybe I had boarded the wrong train.

“Boy, move! Shake a leg!” The shouting voice repeated. 

‘Move’ I knew that word. I tripped over myself in a panic. My hands shaking at the thought that I may have disrupted their customs. As I stepped away from the seat the boy who I had sat beside ducked out from under my elbow and scurried to the back of the train. I turned to apologize and froze in place. Behind my seat was a large group of people with faces ranging in tone. Some looked like warm chocolate, others like the outer skin of an almond and some like the umber night sky. My eyes slowly widened and I felt fascination fill me. Though they were staring at me like I was holding them at gunpoint. 

Not all of them looked afraid either. In fact, most looked irate. The train lurched forward and I was forced to sit back in the empty seat but I continued to look at them in confusion. They were all crunched together, almost piled up. There must have been thirty of them and they all managed to fit in the space of eight booths- made for seating only twelve.

Once the train picked up pace, I turned in my seat to look back ahead. Everybody in front of me looked comfortable and there was no over seating. Everybody was in rows, two to a seat. Some even sat alone beside their luggage. I contemplated why all of the people behind me were huddled together and not taking up the free space. Then noticed not a single one of the people sitting in front of me was dark and not a single person behind me was light. The sight made me recollect an American text I had read some months ago but didn't put too much attention to. Eagerly, I opened my suitcase and fished out my notebook to jot down my observations to visit at a later date I closed the moleskin notebook and rested my head against the backside of the booth, closing my eyes and focusing on the few things that had happened to me since I had stepped off the ship and into American territory. A thought reoccurred in my head like a big flashing warning sign that I constantly tucked away.

_Such a strange place._

 


	2. Monachopsis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Definition of Monachopsis- the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place, —lumbering, clumsy, easily distracted, huddled in the company of other misfits, unable to recognize the ambient roar of your intended habitat, in which you'd be fluidly, brilliantly, effortlessly at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks all for the wonderful comments, I'm so happy that you're all enjoying my story thus far! <3
> 
> Here's a link to the song Roll Jordan Roll, as sung by John Legend. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FICanqLXR2w

When everyone finally filed off the train I was left turning in circles in a cloud of dirt kicked up by the passing automobiles and dragging feet. Hange had written me before I had shipped out, informing me that she would be sending a man to pick me up and for a while, I stood there waiting for someone to tap on my shoulder. There were plenty of men here and all of them were dressed the same. I hadn’t gotten the tiniest bit of description of my driver from her.

The fact of the matter was; I was too shy to walk up to any of the men loitering in front of their sparkling terraplanes. So instead, I settled into taking matters into my own hands.

Neglecting to place my journal back into my suitcase I tucked it under my arm, which was starting to smell tangy from the heat of the sun drawing the water from my body. Though I didn't dare take off my jacket or slip my suspenders off.

I wanted to be dressed properly for my first day in America. It only seemed right I act as professional since I was taking my first step into the world of adulthood. I was nineteen years old, fresh out of a prolonged period of french boarding school that had outcasted me as a sort of ugly duckling. Now, I was determined to make myself a part of something bigger than myself, craving the sense of fulfillment of growing into the swan. Even if I had a hard time asking for soda pop or simply greeting people when the time came. I was sure sooner or later my awkwardness would fade and confidence would take its place.

I wiped the sweat off my neck and watched the cars merge onto the narrow dirt road which divided the town through the center and sunk into high grasslands which seemed to lead to nowhere. I spun my head three hundred sixty degrees, twisting my body with it.This day felt hotter than the day in France when temperatures had peaked to a hundred eleven. I was ten years old at the time and I distinctly recall it as being the worst day of my life- spent inside studying the tedious Pythagorean theorem while the other kids played in the fountain on the outside of the gate that enclosed the school.The gate that restricted me in every way possible.

Shaking off the memory, I scrutinized the town as I wiped more sweat from my forehead and pushed my dampened hair from my face. There was a building with a sign beside it reading ‘Hoover drugstore and Apothecary’. I had not suffered from heat stroke just yet, so stopping in there wasn't necessary. Although, I didn't doubt a few more minutes in the sun would do the trick. To the left of the drugstore were a barber shop and a couple general stores. A slightly larger building stood a few spaces away from the cluster of stores. The painted letters above the doorframe read, ‘So. Shelby Plantations’. I remembered reading those words in Hanji’s letter which served as the only indication that I hadn’t strayed too far from my destination.

The buildings were centered around a church which was fenced in and had the only lawn in the whole town. All the other buildings in the town were surrounded by troughs, plots of yellowed grass, wilting flowers and dirt. Compared to the chapel the whole town looked gray and bland. The paint on the obelisk-pointed building looked like it might be wet to the touch with how white and neat it was.

I pulled my notebook back out to scribble a messy charcoal sketch of the architecture and  continually dabbed my sleeve against the perimeter of my face so my sweat wouldn't get in the way of my vision. Then walked towards a cafe I had noticed while assessing the scene around me, focusing on the sketch rather than my footing. I pushed the door open with my shoulder, still eagerly drawing. I finished it I snapped my book shut, keeping my eyes to the floor to avoid the stares I could feel crawling over my skin like insects. I plopped down into an empty booth and wiped more excess sweat from my brow, knowing full well I had smudged the charcoal sediment left on my fingertips across my face.

I settled there for a moment, calming my worn body and studying the crooked picture frames hanging against yellowed wallpaper. Cracking in some places the pink flowers on the paper were faded and the blue-green background color behind them had been bleached by the sun. A deft hand went into my suitcase stashing away my notebook. I only tore my eyes away from the cobwebbed wall beside me when I remembered how messy my luggage had gotten from the papers falling out at the train station.

While organizing the innards of my luggage I kept my teeth bared teeth, each paper deciding to disagree with my small fingers. Eventually, I stopped my jerky movements to throw my arms in the air. Deciding that everything was as neat as it was going to get. In the back of my head, my mother's disapproving voice argued the notion but I ignored it as best I could.

I yanked the small bag of American money my cousin had sent me out onto my lap. My lips pressed into a thin line as I realized I didn't know the value of a single coin or sheet of paper. With a soft laugh at myself, I yanked the binding of my notebook back out of my luggage for what seemed the hundred time that day and flipped back to the notes I had taken about American coinage before I had left. As I repeated the notes in my head, memorizing them for a short term I looked around the rest of the diner.

Each surface was buried under a half an inch of dust and there was a bar in front which had eight out of the ten seats that were vacant. Other than the two gentlemen and the woman behind the counter the place was empty, excluding me.

There were fans blowing the dust and warm air around the room. Somehow it felt better than being outside even with the consequence of constantly feeling the need to sneeze.

My hip bumped the table I had been sitting at as I stood up and I pursed my lips, my eyes shooting back to the floor, my hip throbbing with sharp pain. I approached the bar  with small steps, holding the bag of money tight to my side.

“Madam?” I whispered. The woman lazily turned her head towards me in my peripheral vision and I took in a swell of air and pushed myself to meet her gaze. Her face was plump and her cheeks blotched red from the heat. Her eyes were half open and her mouth was long and drooping like a fish.

For a moment I regretted speaking at all and thought about turning back around while I could. The two men at the bar also turned to seize me up and the heat on my skin prickled as the lump in my chest kicked against my ribcage, trying to escape. Nervous sweat built on the back of my neck and my mother's voice revisited me .‘Levi what are you gonna do when I’m gone? You're going to have to buy your own bread someday!’

“How much does a glass of water cost?” I asked in a slur that was barely audible.

The waitress propped her elbows onto the counter and leaned her face into her hand, blinking slowly and moving her other hand towards a crystal ashtray where a half burnt cigarette burned. “Waters free.” She brought the cigarette to her lips, taking a sleepy drag.

I stayed silent as she took a few more draws off the yellowed stick between her fingers that matched the walls. She blew the smoke into my face and I held my breath and squinted my eyes, trying not to cough at the disgusting scent. ”Do you want a glass boy?”

I raked my fingers through my hair and slowly nodded. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and my head felt dizzy just at the thought of water. The waitress lifted from her slouched position and slipped off of her stool.

Turning around she reached into a refrigerator full of glass coca cola bottles and took at a pitcher of water from the bottom shelf. She set it on the counter and my dry tongue licked the cracked skin of my upper lip. My shaking fingers almost reached forward and grabbed the pitcher to chug it down but the stares from the men a few seat distance away stopped me.

Thirst and heat were putting a damper on my excitement. I no longer wanted to explore but valued the dusty breeze from the fans and the pitcher of ice water more. The waitress turned again and placed a glass next to the pitcher taking her sweet time in pouring the glass. The sound of the water sloshing together had me fidgeting.

Once filled, I wrapped my hand around the glass and lifted it to my lips chugging it down with vigor as my body temperature cooled and the rigidness of my muscles lessened. The tiredness I felt seconds ago was fading and I slammed the empty glass back down on the counter, making the condensation drip down the sides and pool on the wood.

“Thank you!” The refreshed smile on my face hid when I saw that I was the only one who was remotely happy. The three around me were still frowning and as dull and gray as the town they lived in.

I wrung my wrist in my hand and regretted not waiting or asking around for the driver that was supposed to bring me to Hanji. Scenarios where she would forget about me or I’d be lost played in my mind as I stepped away from the counter and hurried back to the booth I had set my belongings in and gathered them. Pivoting my foot and turning to leave. The on the door jingled and I saw my first glimpse of color since I stepped into this glum little town.

A girl in grass-stained overalls that were rolled above a set of scraped knees marched forward, swinging her fists at her sides. Her brows were drawn together with determination so intense it slightly resembled anger. She couldn't have been older than twelve or thirteen.

The red headed girl hopped up onto a bar stool and spat the short stick of grain between her teeth onto the floor. I almost laughed at the glare that the waitress fixed her with when she did it.

The waitress was standing at attention now, with her chin up as if she was being challenged by the child. “What is it you’ll be needing Miss Isabel?”  I wished I could have seen the girls face because the waitress looked as if she wanted to give the girl a lick upside the head and her mood was only worsening.

“I’m in need of two cups of water and a bottle of cola, please.” The girl swung her legs in her chair and leaned forward against the counter.

The waitress narrowed her eyes, tipping her chin up further.“ Who’s it for?”

“The water is for me and a friend. And my brother gives me money for a cola every Friday afternoon, you know that.” She leaned further forward and dug into the breast pocket of her overalls, digging out some coins. “You gonna keep interrogatin’ me or are ya gonna let me pay you?”

The waitress didn't budge. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Who’s the friend Isabel?”

I leaned the small of my back against the frame of the booth, watching the two interact. The older men sitting at the bar turned away and engaged in their own small talk. All the sane pieces of me were telling me to leave because the air was heavy with a conflict that was about to come. My natural interest had me standing still against the odds.

“Who cares?”

The waitress rose her voice and slammed her palms flat on the counter, flicking away her cigarette with pursed lips. “I do!”

“It’s because of that dumbass sign you got hanging in that window ain’t it?” The girl sneered, wiping the dirt off her worn out laced shoes and avoiding eye contact.

“Watch your mouth young lady! I don’t care what your drunk, hoodlum of a brother lets you say in the house but I know well and good your mama wouldn't have ever let you talk like that!” Isabel snapped her head back up to look at the waitress.

“You don’t know nothin’ bout my mama.” She snapped and the waitresses body loosened up. She patted her hands down the long, pale blue skirt she wore and for a moment she even looked apologetic. She turned and grabbed the pitcher of water from the fridge along with a bottle of Cola. She turned again and I expected her to grab two glasses but she grabbed only one. The sound of the single glass clinking against the counter was possibly the worst sound I’d ever heard.

Suddenly the girls' entire stance changed from one of defiance to that of a dog begging for scraps. “Please, Miss Kris. He’s been workin’ all day. Just a glass of water, just one!?” The girl in the overalls whined and the waitress looked down at the floor tiredly.

“I told you last week and the week before that Isabel, I don’t serve _them_.”

I cocked my head to the side, switching the side I held my suitcase in as the handle grew damp and started slipping from the sweat gathering in my palm. Who were _they_?

Isabel slid off the stool with her fists clenched at her sides. “So what you're just gonna let ‘im faint out in the sun? _They_ need water Miss Kris just like _us_!”

“Didn’t anybody ever teach you to respect your elder's little girl? Now I know for a fact that behind the barber shop there’s a fountain of cold water with his name written right across it.”

I stood in place with baited breath, afraid that a sudden move would set one of them off. The blonde who I knew now as Kris took a deep breath and grabbed a rag, cleaning the dust off the counter hastily to distract herself from Isabel's presence.

Isabel slapped the money she had clenched in her fist onto the counter in exchange for the drinks. I figured she’d turn and leave but before she did she paused. “You and I both know that water’s piss warm and dirty.” She said. “And his name ain’t ‘ _colored only’_ Miz Krista, his name is William..”

The waitress rolled her eyes and focused on scrubbing the grime from the unoccupied counter space, mumbling something about ‘no difference’. The young girl gritted her teeth and stomped  out of the store, kicking the door open with a scowl.

When the door finally swung closed I was aware that I was a presence inside the diner. I had gotten so engaged in watching the two females bickering that I forgot I was leaving. Having that conversation under my belt definitely opened me up to a new handful of questions that I was eager to have answered.

The young girl was a spark. Just the type of thing I was looking for. For a second I was worried that I wouldn't get any type of excitement in this bland town. That I wouldn't be able to fill the empty space in my memory labeled experience. Which had been sealed shut as soon as I came into this world with a strict professor of a mother.

I must admit when I was packing my undergarments for America my goal wasn’t to go about chasing around a girl almost a decade my junior. But there I was, tucking my suitcase under my arm and jogging out of the diner door. Looking in every which direction for dark red pigtails and patched overalls. She couldn't have gone far it wasn't like the town was large or crowded.

Then I remembered the waitress saying something about the barbershop. I started to walk in the direction of the building only to pause. The train was arriving in the station again but that wasn't what caught my eye. Amongst the small cluster of automobiles parked by the tracks being swallowed by steam was a man in a suit holding a sign written in french. I didn't take the time to read the whole sign because my name was quite obviously the center of attention. It was written in bolded letters that looked similar to Hange’s chicken scratch.

I must have taken the wrong train. The man clearing my boarding pass probably didn't even look at the time. Judging by the sun floating above my head it was about noon which was the same time printed on my pass. The blame was mine for not looking at a clock before I boarded.

Now I was stuck between two decisions. Do what was expected of me and walk towards the man holding the sign. Get in the car after a small polite greeting and go on to the safe confines of an estate full of freshly pressed linens and antique vases on every tablecloth. The alternative was to chase after that red headed girl whose eyes glowed with the spirit of a musketeer.

All my adventures had been based on books written by people who weren't me. Now I was standing on the line between what my mother would think wrong and what she would think right.

My eyes widened with panic and the sound of ticking in my head seemed to mark the time I was wasting on making a decision. My clammy fingers rubbed together and I stood for several minutes frozen in place as the start of a war took place in my skull. Thoughts charged from the left side and right but before the two could collide I asked myself, ‘What would Sir Arthur have done?’ Walt Whitman, Oscar Wilde, David Livingstone, Lewis Carroll- What would all these men, who influenced the person I was so heavily, do if they were standing in the same line of fire as me?

Would they run for cover or take their chances? I assumed the latter and turned on my heel, away from the man holding his sign without a second thought. All my worries seemed to dissolve for the time being.

After all, what was the worse that could happen? All I was doing was asking a small girl, who had ordered two glasses of water and received one, a few simple questions. Odds were she would give me the same sour attitude she had given the waitress and I would send myself back to the man in the suit with my coat tails tucked between my legs. I could write about my explorations in bed tonight and the first line of my journal would still remain the same. _‘Today was the best day of my life’._ Despite receiving only scowls and disinterest from everyone I had encountered thus far- on this day I had experienced more than I had in the last nineteen years in my home in France.

I wandered to the barber shop, my tongue dried up as I walked. The heat would take some getting used to. I could only imagine how much worse it would get as the summer progressed. The building looked mostly deserted. Inside was a man sweeping up a floor that was hair free and outside there was a man sitting in a chair with his feet up on a pair of wooden pegs. Which I wouldn't think anything of if I hadn't seen a boy kneeling in front of him with a rag in one hand and a scrubber and an empty glass by his thigh. He was slapping the rag over the man’s shoes, swiping it left and right and somehow the sounding snap of the rag made a steady beat. I started tapping my toe and looking around again to see that the girl was nowhere to be found.

A little disappointed, I looked over my shoulder at the man still holding the sign as people passed by him and the train whistled its announcement of departure. I put my weight on my heels, turning to walk away before I heard a girlish sneeze.

“Well, Mr. Zacharias looks as though the tubercocoli-” I turned and suppressed a smile. The girl in the overalls was rounding the corner of the building with a newspaper in her hands and a pinch in her brows. She leaned against the dusty window next to the man in the chair, her face turned red as her eyes squinted at the paper.

“Sound it out, Isabel.” The man named Zacharias said.

Isabel's face flattened for a moment as she continued to look at the paper. Taking a deep breath, she took another stab at it. “Tu..ber...cu..losis.” The man nodded her on and she relaxed a bit. “It seems as though the tuberculosis epidemic is getting worse.”

“And taxes?” He asked. She nibbled her lip as she opened e newspaper up and turned a page.

“Up another seven percent but prices are down.” She said with a soft frown.

He frowned as well as he tapped his foot and picked a tan fedora off the cap of his knee, placing it on his head of dirty blonde hair. “And what’s the term we use when prices go down and money loses its value?” he asked as he adjusted the blazer draped over his arm and stood up. The boy still kneeling at his feet moved away and Mr. Zacharius picked a coin from his pocket and dropped it in the glass beside the boy's thigh. The clink of the metal hitting the glass made me shiver.

“Deflation, sir.” The girl in the overalls said softly and closed the newspaper, walking closer to fedora man. “Does that mean my brother isn’t gonna be able to get me my Friday Cola?” She asked as she folded the newspaper and handed it to him. He took it and held it close at his side with a soft smile.

“I don’t think young Mr. Jaeger would miss giving you your Friday Cola for the world.” He said matter-of-factly and ruffled the smirking redheads bangs.

“Suh? You wanna shoe shine?” The boy kneeling on the ground asked me and I froze. Once again I had forgotten my own presence.

I nodded and awkwardly stepped forward as the man who had spoken to the girl in the overalls walked away. She turned and crossed her arms as she glared at me. I felt my shoulders scrunch up and my heart beat fast under the intense viridescent gaze. She was just a small girl yet her eyes looked as if they had the passion of a revolutionary.

I tore my eyes away from hers and looked down at the boy. He gestured to the seat and slowly I sank down into it, pressing my suitcase into my lap as I gulped. I could still feel her gaze peeling me apart like an onion, one layer at a time.

I looked down at the boy with the chocolate brown eyes, hoping he’d say something to break the tense silence but he didn't. He only picked his rag back up. The palms of his hands looked rock hard. I’d only seen calluses that rough on sailors. I also noticed that unlike the rest of his hand his palm was as light as mine.

I placed my feet up on the pegs like the other man had and suddenly felt giddy as he brought the rag to my shoes. Quickly slapping it against the leather, wiping away the dust and scratches.

“So, Mister. You been stalkin’ me?” The girl grunted and I subconsciously looked back up at her. Her stance had changed. She stood with her chin up and her feet apart with arms still crossed over her chest. Call me silly-- but she was the most intimidating child I’d ever met and I didn’t even know what she was saying. Something about women’s stockings?

“Uh... I don't understand?”

Suddenly I felt like a fool for scouting her out. What was I expecting from her or from myself for that matter?

“Have you been stalking me? You know! Like followin’ me around, creepin’ and such.” She asked.

I nodded slowly. “Y-yes. I have been following you.” I said slowly, making sure each syllable sounded perfect.

Her jaw gritted and I swallowed thickly as she puffed out her chest more. “My big brothers been teachin’ me how to use a switchblade, so you should stop followin’ me around.”

‘What’s a switchblade?’ I wondered silently to myself as she moved her hands to her hips, a smile replacing her scowl.

“And if my big brother finds out you been followin’ me around, you’ll be in for a beatin’.” She said with her lips pulled back.

A beating? I was very familiar with those. With a teacher as a mother, I had seen my fair share of rulers and switches. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing any of that here and definitely not from another man.

“I-I don't mean trouble..” I said.

Her scowl grew back but I looked away from her when the boy cleaning my shoes spoke up.

“Miss Isabel, I think he’s telling the truth. I mean- he looks about the same age as my sister Agnes.” He said quietly as he kept smacking the rag against my left shoe. They were almost spotless and I had to refrain myself from tapping my toes to the rhythm he made.

“Will, what I tell you ‘bout calling me miss? I ain't a lady!” She hissed, her angry expression shifting to him.

He shrugged, “My mama says you’s a lady and I best treat you like one.”

The tips of her ears turned red again and she stamped her foot, turning back to me. “How old are you anyway?”

“Nineteen.”

“See? What I tell you? His fruit ain’t even dropped off the tree yet.” Will interjected and shook his head. Then he started humming a tune and I smiled, slapping my hand against my suitcase excitedly.

He paused and looked up at me with wide eyes. “You like that?” he laughed and I nodded eagerly. I had only heard music (other than gospel) a handful of times in my life. I had sung in the choir at the church my mother and I had attended and listened to the national anthem every morning but other than that I hadn't heard much.

“There’s gotta be somethin’ wrong with his head…” Isabel said and looked at me with pinched brows that looked slightly amused.

“Ease up, Is,” Will said and rolled his eyes as he slapped the rag to a steady beat. He inhaled sharply and started to sing.

_“Roll Jordan, roll_

_Roll Jordan, roll_

_I want to get to_

_Heaven when I die_

_To hear Roll Jordan roll~”_

His voice was smooth and deep and it made me smile even though I didn’t understand the lyrics. His thick lips parted again and my breath baited. Isabel shook her head and my brows pinched together when several seconds passed and Will had not started singing again.

“Why stop?” I whispered down to him when I caught that both children looked worried and were staring at the ground. Isabel nudged me and gestured towards a pair of men who looked like they had walked right off the cover of a fashion ad in the papers. I wondered how they had anything to do with Will's singing but waited to say anything until the gentlemen in the suits were out of earshot.

“Who is they?”

Isabel frowned. “You ain’t from around these parts are you?”

“No, Miss.”

She stuck out a small hand that was clean all but for the dirt under jagged fingernails. “The name’s Isabel Jaeger, no ‘Miss’ needed. What's yer name?”

As she spoke I got the money baggie out of my briefcase and stuck my hand in it, not really paying attention to what I grabbed and dropping a handful of paper and coins into the glass beside Will. “Levi,” I answered and Will cleared his throat.

“S’cuse me? Mr. Levi, sir. I only charge five cents a shine.”

“Keep,” I said and watched him pull the money out and count it.

When finished he looked up at Isabel with his mouth slightly ajar. “Five dollars and fifty cents.” He squeaked and Isabel smiled as she took me by the arm and yanked me out of the chair.

“I guess I can like you, Le-vi.” Her hold on my arm loosened and became more friendly. She pulled me towards the street with a wide smile. “Come on, Will! I want to show my new friend off to my big brother.”

My eyes widened and I bit my lip as I looked back to see that the man with the sign was gone. Which meant I was on my own now.


	3. Serendipity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serendipity~  
> The chance occurence of events in a beneficial way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy wow, it's been a long time since I've posted. My junior year is finally coming to a close and let me tell you, it's been utter chaos from beginning to end. But, now things are starting to settle and I can finally continue writing for you wonderful people. This has nothing to do with the chapter but whatever. It's midnight and I'm too tired to make excuses so here you go~

I thought about how I’d get back to Hange when it was time for me to cease my fun and I imagined I was causing her quite a bit of trouble. I knew full well that this wasn't the best way to make a first impression and I was sure she’d chastise me for it later. Though these thoughts visited me only for a fleeting moment before I was swept away by excitement again.

Will caught up to us with the glass of money and supplies in one hand as well as a fishing pole over his left shoulder. “Aye! Isn’t your brother working tonight?!” He walked on the opposite side of me than Isabel was on.

“Yeah, so?”

“Is, are you off your rocker? He ain’t gon’ let you get in!”

She jerked a thumb to the side, at me. “Yeah, but he can help us get in.”

“Us?! I ain’t gettin myself a beatin’ because you got a plan to sneak into the clip joint. Just because you a twit don’t mean I am!”

“It ain’t called being a twit Will! It’s called havin’ balls!” She yelled and banged her fist against her chest as she stood on her tiptoes to make herself taller than him.

I was both entertained and concerned about the two children arguing amongst themselves and I stayed quiet as they led me down the road that led out of the town and off to nowhere.

“You’re a girl you don’t have balls!”

“Do too!” Isabel defended.

“Liar, prove it then.”

Isabel crossed her arms and scowled again. I only had a small idea what they were talking about but the pout of her lower lip made me laugh quietly.

Her elbow jutted out and stuck between my ribs making me choke on my own breath.“Lid it. You're supposed to be on my side Levi..”

Will ignored her and walked ahead of us into the dirt path. It was quiet all but for the loud buzzing of june bugs and crickets in the grass running beside us. The boy took the butt of his fishing pole and balanced it on the palm of his hand as he walked. Which naturally I found fascinating because it was the twice the size of him.

He had his eyes trained on the tip of the pole and his tongue was stuck out in focus when Isabel ran forward and pinched his hip. “Dagnabit Is!” he exclaimed when the pole fell from his hands. She knelt down and picked it up and I jogged to get closer to them.

She mimicked Will by putting the end of the pole on the center of her hand. I watched intently now that I had a closer veiw as her arm swayed from side to side. She too stuck her tongue out and we walked a good length of dirt before the pole tipped and she caught it before it fell on anyone's head.

“Show off.” Will muttered and kicked the dirt. Isabel tossed the pole towards me and out of pure luck I caught it in my freehand.

“You try.” She said.

I nodded and placed it in the same way they had, thinking that it would be easy and quickly proving myself mistaken. The pole stood in my hand for all but three seconds before falling out. Both children laughed and I handed the pole back to its owner with a small smile.

“Say- I could use me a bowl of Miss Maria’s special ice cream.” Will said and Isabel rolled her eyes as she bent down and picked up a rock from the dirt, throwing it as far as she could down the gravelly dirt path.

“She ain’t gonna make you any.”

“Why not?”

“Cause it ain’t past suppertime and it’s too hot for fudge.” She paused and looked over at me. “Speakin’ of, you look awfully heated in that jacket mister Levi.”

I lowered my chin down, eyeing at the sweat that was starting to stain the white button up under my jacket. Hesitantly I slid it off my shoulders and held it in the same hand as my suitcase. Which for a moment reminded me of where I was supposed to be, though I pushed the recurring thought out of my mind.

“That’s better.” Isabel piped in a cheerful way which reminded me I was amongst children.

I hadn't even noticed that the winding road we walked had started branching off into narrower ones that led to thick woods on my left. What I did notice was the field of white to my right. “What’s that?” I asked as my head tilted slightly to the side. I could see people bobbing in and out of crops with rucksacks thrown over their shoulders.

“That’s the Lewis’s cotton mill. That’s where Will’s mama works.”

Will nodded to confirm the fact and I looked back into the fields for a face of likeness to his but they were all dark and seemed similar from such distance. From all the way out here they looked like worker ants building a hill that only the wealthy could see.

  
It made me pant just watching them labouring away in such heat. “Hard work.”

“You bet.” Will said in a solemn voice. A short silence fell over us as all of our heads stayed turn to the fields. The only sound being our pants scuffing the gravel under our feet and the insects still buzzing on in the grass.

Then Isabel turned and started leading us out onto one of the branched roads with a skip in her step. Will tipped his chin up to look at the sun. “We better stop by the creak before we go on in. I don’t think your big brother is ready for work.”

Isabel waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense! He said he was leaving at   
twelve thirty sharp!”

“Ain’t he always late for ev-” Will sentence stopped short when Isabel sent him a deadly glare and I rose my brows with another soft laugh.

Isabels glare turned to me, “Why you gotta get the giggle stick when I’m ticked, huh?”

I shrugged, hoping that it was the right reaction to have to her words which I wasn't an inkling close to understanding. She rolled her eyes and spit off to the side into the weeds hugging the narrowed path. It had gotten considerably cooler now that we were under the shade of the trees. There was a buzzing in the grass that was too loud to ignore and subconsciously my knees wobbled as close to the middle of the path as they could.   
The first one to laugh was Will, followed suit by Isabel. Her hip bumped against mine and I noticed the sliver of a height distance between us. Within a year or so, I knew she’d be taller than me. Not that I’d be around to see it, though for some reason I wished I would be. “Watch out! They gon’ getcha!” she giggled and Will rolled his eyes. It made me shiver, I’ll admit to that. Nothing about loud bugs is pleasant, especially when it’s large bugs in a quiet forest. Couldn’t hear any birds, not even the wind. All you could hear was that Godforsaken buzz, it was enough to drive a man mad.

“Look Is, now you got the poor guy all shook up o’er nuthin’,” Will said as he nudged Isabel but she only slapped him away and shushed him.

“Quiet now. I dunno if my brother’s still home.” she hissed and my back straightened at attention. Isabel was a feisty handful, I could only imagine what an older, male version of her would be like. When she had spoken was when I finally noticed the dusty shutters and chipped paint of a small little house within the brush. Ivy climbed up it’s siding and I could tell that it was the type of house that’d creak like a readying symphony if the wind blew steady enough. The windows were dusty and if it weren’t for the windchimes on the porch and the rocking chair that was nodding back and forth I would've thought the place was abandoned.

I followed in Isabel’s shadow, creeping up the weak front steps like a robber in the night. She reached for the doorknob and the three of us held our breaths, like something mighty awful was going to pop out of the gaps in the floorboards like an old jack in the box. Isabel nearly screamed when the front door opened before her hand could yank back the screen. Even my chest tightened with fear. But the individual on the other side was an older looking woman, with dark skin like Will’s and the boy on the train.

“Dammit Miss Maria! You dog gon’ near gave me a heart attack!”, Isabel snarled with gritting teeth. The woman named Maria only patted her hands down on her apron and grabbed Isabel by the arm, pulling her inside. “Little lady, you best watch yo’ pretty little mouth-”

Isabel muttered something about not being a lady, but Maria continued. “An’ look at that haya’. I done combed it and curled it up all pretty and you ruin it all in a days work? I be lucky if I can get a brush through it wet now. Aren’t you suppos’ to be in school?”

“Naw Ma’am. Din’t I tell you? I don’ finished all my schoolwork before the year even ended. So, I gon’ and picked up Will to do sum fishin’ but we made us some friend instead.” Her red pigtails nodded in my direction and I brought my suitcase to my chest subconsciously. Will nudged me further inside and I stuck out my hand for Miss Maria to shake but she just raised her brow in an unimpressed manor.

“Levi Ackerman, Miss. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“He ain’t from ‘round here. Your brother wouldn’t approve Isabel. What’s you thinkin’ bringin’ him back here?”

Isabel rolled a shoulder, “I dunno. He’s my friend. I won’t be approven’ of suma’ his friends but you don’t see me rackin’ up a fuss.”  
Maria crossed her arms over her hefty chest and looked down at Isabel, “Your brother’s a grown man, so you ain’t got no say in his choices, ya hear?” She turned to me again. “How old is you anyways?”

“Nineteen.”

She opened her mouth again with a look on her face that was ready to scold Isabel, but the pesky red head was quick to change the subject.

“So my brother already went and head down to the clip joint huh?” She asked but Maria shook her head.

“No, your brother still sleepin’ off that mason jar that the ole booze maker Randy gave ‘im last night.”

Isabel tsked and Will laughed softly from beside me. “Told ya’ so..” he murmured and Isabel threw him another one of those terrible glares.

Isabel went back to bantering back and forth with Maria for a bit more before the woman sighed and untied the back of her apron, which I guess was her way of saying goodbye. She hung it up and a few moments later was stepping down the front steps with a glass bottle of milk and a brown paper bag in hand.

Then we started moving again, this time through the breezy house. It wasn’t like anything I’d seen before. I was very used to immaculate clean homes, I was used to everything having it’s own place and it’s seemed that not only this house, but the entire town was anything but what I was used to. Isabels house was sloppy, extra wooden chairs were sitting in corners, windchimes and dying plants hung from the ceiling, small knick knacks were on every dusty shelf, the windows were small and busted, the floor was scratched and creaky, the walls old and yellow, the curtains in need of a good bleaching, open containers of butter, honey and jam attracted house flies of all kinds. But- all in all it was the most cozy and homish place I’d ever set foot in.

“I oughta’ wake him up before the boys come.” she muttered and Will nodded.

“We’ll come with you just in case. Last time Ole man Randy whipped up a batch of bourbon it did somethin’ foul to ‘is system.”

In single file again, we all made our way down a couple narrow halls, all the way to the other end of the house where there was a single door left slightly ajar. The sound of soft snores grew louder as Isabel pushed the door open. Sitting there with his upper body sprawled across a piano was the sleeping man that I assumed was none other than Isabel's big brother Mister Jaeger. He had his bared back to us and his suspenders hung low on the piano bench. Pieces of used parchment with chicken scratched words on them were scattered all over the floor and perched up on top of the old piano was a mason jar with a half an inch of auburn liquid at the bottom of it.

We all just stood in the doorway watching his toned back inhale and exhale with each steady snore. Then isabel put a few fingers in her mouth and a loud whistle broke through the calm air and if that didn’t make me jump what happened next did. The sleeping man's arms slammed down on the piano keys and he tipped backwards onto the floor, off of the piano bench. He cursed under his breath with a voice still low and rasped with sleep. He slipped his suspenders up over his muscular shoulders and my eyes followed in awe. He looked just like the men in the textbooks I read for anatomy. The type of specimen a renaissance artist could only dream of. He had smooth skin and a frame that looked like it had been sculpted by Michelangelo himself. My face didn’t turn red until he stood up completely and his eyes flitted open, the first thing he looked at just so happening to be me.

He didn’t keep my gaze for more than a few seconds before looking down at his sister. “Is, what the hell?!” he snapped and she smirked before running towards him and wrapping her arms around his waist. The simple gesture set off a pang in my chest and it snapped hard like a mousetrap with a loose pin. He seemed to melt in her arms and he shook his head.

“You already done messed up the hair Miss Maria fixed up for you last night?”

She nodded.

“Who’s the new guy? Looks a bit old to be a school mate.” he said, the last part coming out to sound threatening.

“That’s Mister Levi. He’s a frenchie, fresh off the train. Ain’t so bright, done gave Will five dolla’ for a shoe shine.” she replied and Eren raised his brows with surprise. Those rapturing blue green eyes going back to me and turning me to stone in place.

Then he was walking towards me, reaching his hand out for a shake. My body told me to scram but somehow I lifted my numb arm and shook his hand, which felt like an iron weight around my small palm. “Eren Jaeger. Pleased to meet you..” he said in a voice clear as day. He smelt like alcohol and I’d usually be disgusted by the repelling scent but somehow it added to his unusual charm.

“Guten Morgen…” I said hesitantly, hoping I wasn’t making a fool of myself. Though when his chapped lips curled into a half smirk, I knew I wasn't.

He looked to the side and pointed to a clock hanging on the wall. “It’s actually the afternoon. You know most frenchie’s don’t speak German. You sure you’re French?”

I nodded, gathering what confidence I had and clearing my throat, though it did little justice when my accent came clear and thick. “I am...But I am not like most.”

His head tilted to the side with interest and my body filled with the same excitement I had gotten when I caught sight of Isabel but his attention was quickly caught and guided somewhere else. Which left me an odd kind of frustrated.

I watched his sharp jawline as he looked over at Isabel, I’d never wanted to draw a straight line so badly in my life. “Wait a sec, it’s the afternoon. Today’s Friday, isn’t it?”

Will laughed softly and Isabel nodded. “Yissir.”

As soon as the first syllable left her lips he was rushing around the room, throwing clothes on and scooping papers into his arms. Making even more of a mess than the room already was, as all three of us watched on with amusement. “Now Isabel, when I get back you better have your teeth brushed, skin all cleaned and in bed. You hear?” She nodded and rolled her eyes. “And Will, don’t forget to ask your Mama if she’ll be wanting those chickens I offered her-!” He stopped short, standing up and stuffing his things into a small backpack. He then went to the closet and pulled a shiny looking instrument out, tossing it over his shoulder.

“Levi…” he trailed off. “You up to anything tonight?” he asked and Isabel's jaw dropped open.

“Aye now that ain’t fair. He’s barely nineteen and I ain’t allowed in the clip joint!?”

Eren raised a brow. “I was ‘boutta ask him to look after you, but now thatcha mention it..” He eyed me up and down and I grew buttery under his stare. “Nineteen, huh?”

The way he said it made it sound like he was debating on something sensitive to age. Which only made me wonder how old he was. He looked fairly young but he had the kind of face you couldn’t put a number to. He could be seventeen or twenty seven. There was no telling.

“Got anywhere to be?” he asked.

I’d never lied so unforgivingly in my life when I said, “No.”

I wanted to be wherever he was. If Isabel smelt like adventure, then he tasted like it and it was sweet. A few moments later he was leading me out the door, rubbing cologne on his wrists and rinsing his mouth out as we passed through the bedroom and kitchen. Leaving Isabel with a gaped mouth behind us and Will laughing softly at her.

I had officially jumped into the frying pan and was diving out into the fire, and the burn had never felt so good. 


	4. Acatalepsy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Definition of Acatalepsy:
> 
> The idea that it's truly impossible to understand everything

The next hour would prove to be the most memorable part of the day. Eren and I fought through the brush, walking down endless paths that were buried under roots, leaves and a litany of creepy crawling  bugs. After around fifteen minutes of huffing and puffing my way through the dirt Eren laughed at me. Having not appreciated that too much I stopped dead in my tracks and gave him a glare, trying my best to imitate his sister.

I wasn't an outdoor child at all. I had never walked through dirt in my life and I can’t say I enjoyed the experience of being mosquito bitten and having switch branches whipping into my face at a consistent rate.

My scowl made the brunette laugh- of course.

“How...How longer?” I stumbled both verbally and physically (over a root). He snorted, stopping his gait as well and turning to look at me with that almost predatory glow in his eye.

“How _much l_ onger? Is that what y’meant?” he asked with a sarcastic grin that made my face redden with a frustrated blush. Luckily I could camouflage my embarrassment as anger. Still he chuckled all the more.

“Shouldn’t be no more than ten, twelve minutes.”

I huffed again and continued to follow only for my breaths to grow more dry and shallow by the minute, The heat was frying. Finally, we escaped the forest and we walked straight into a clearing. There was a large looking building that appeared as if it was falling to pieces. It seemed empty for all but a few men, varying in color with glass bottles in hand. One or two had the same kind of instrument that Eren had. Except one soul playing fellow with a brass instrument that appeared to be a curved and had dozens of fancy knobs and such on it.

The sun was setting by the time Eren had finished introducing me to people. Jean and I hit it off almost instantly. He spoke French which made me realize how uncomfortable I had been before I met him.

Eren left me with him when he noticed that I had finally struck up a conversation with someone. We spoke quite a bit, I learned that Eren wasn’t his favorite person and the same applied vice versa. A crowd trickled in but I barely noticed with how engaged I was while talking to Jean. I would have been completely at home if I hadn’t felt the tickle of a stare on my back. Jean had started to raise his voice as lanterns were lit, the bar had become crowded and voices raised. I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt warm breath in my ear and at my neck, the smell familiar and the voice gravelly with alcohol. “Hey this guy isn’t boring you, right?”

“Boring?” I echoed.

“No, we were just talkin’ about how creepy you were gawkin’ at Levi from across the room.” The ash blonde retorted and spit the tobacco he had been chewing onto Eren’s shoe, which made me cringe back in disgust. My mother had always taught me that only the most disrespectful of people spat, but maybe this culture was different.

When Eren's arm swung across my body and came an inch away from connecting with Jeans nose, I confirmed that maybe French and American culture wasn't so different after all. Jean seemed ready for it because he dodged the blow and started into a fit of laughter. Eren's face on the other hand was beet red.

“Well? Was creepy.” Jean defended when Eren started saying slurs of insults.

“I have to keep an eyes on him. He’s new around these parts and I can’t have him makin’ friends with the _wrong_ sort.” Eren narrowed his eyes slowly as he spoke.

In argument, I cleared my throat and both of their heads turned as if the spotlight had swerved to look upon my small existence. “I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks being given..”  Both Jean and Erens mouths fell open in surprise but Jeans appeared to be more of a smirk.

All of the sudden the sound of a piano erupted through the silence and caused me to back into the person behind me, who only nudged me back into the direction I had come. Which landed me face first into Erens chest. I could feel the heat collect in the feet of my body and rise to my face. The one time I actually stood my ground and barely a second later I’m humiliated. I seemed to be the only one affected by it though because Eren took my shoulders at about the same time I jumped backwards, tucking my hair behind my ears and adjusting my suit.

“A-apologies.” 

There was a thump of rhythm in the baseboards of the floor which I had suddenly come to notice. There came a loud quacking sound which made me cover my ears. Eren was the one to remove them.

“Hey now, don’t you cover your ears. That's Row on the sax. I reckon he will be the most famous sax player this side of the south given a year or two.”

With eyes wide I turned and tried to sneak a peek at the ‘sax player’ through the now heavy crowd of people. Quickly I became distracted by the warmth of shoulders and backs pushing up against me and caging me in. My chest rose and fell rapidly. Though out of the sea of flesh and cordoroy a hand reached out to my shoulder and pulled me out.

“Geez! I told you to listen, not to walk right out onto the middle of the dancefloor!”

Oh? Had I really walked? I thought I’d only leaned in towards the sound.

Jean laughed aloud. “He’s not a dog, Jaeger! Let the kid live a little. If y’was askin’ me I’d say he _wanted_ to go on the dancefloor.

Eren held up a finger and opened his mouth to speak but Jeans tongue was wagging before he could put in a word.

“Now come on Levi. I’m sure every gal in the joint will want to dance with you. It’s been a long while since we’ve seen a new face in here.” He hooked his arm through mine and I was back in that suffocating balloon of people. Jean had spun his way into the arms of a dark haired woman dressed in an old tattered flapper dress adorned with fake green jewels and black feathers. However I was standing there looking like a fool as I was stepped on and nudged in all different directions.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know how to dance…” A smooth voice said from behind me and warmed me to the tips of my toes. I still wasn't used to people talking to me. Usually people talked _at_ me or _down_ to me.

“No.” I whispered as I turned.

“Hey, hand over Sasha!” Eren yelled over the noise and somehow his voice managed to be loud enough for Jean to hear. A few moments later the girl in the flapper dress was back and the sound of Erens yelling encouraged the people around us to open up some space. They were probably as curious as I was to see what’d happen next.

Eren ducked down close to my level and I subconsciously moved away only for him to grab my shoulder and tug my back, his lips skimming my ear.  “Hold her waist.” He laughed.

“Her what?”

“Hold her waist.” he repeated, the heat of the drink on his breath starting to make my nostrils flare. At the time I didn’t know what a waist was so I tried to think of any acceptable part of her for me to hold and grabbed her arm. Eren rolled his eyes and she looked even more confused than I.

“What's he suffer from retardation or somethin’?”

Eren scowled and pinched her before his hands moved to me. He moved too quickly for me to move away and before I knew it giant hands were firmly hugging my hips. It made me feel more vulnerable than anything else had that entire day. I was so tiny compared to these Americans. Even the women were bigger than me, louder than me, stronger than me. Suddenly I wasn’t liking America. Why were they making me touch people in such inappropriate ways and why was the music so loud? I felt myself curling inwards into myself like I always did. I squirmed out of his hold and rushed towards the bar.

My suitcase, it was gone. I had left it right next to my stool, I could’ve sworn.  I looked around the room one last time with narrowed eyes. I knew what had happened. I had found the troublemakers and thieves, the drunks and the rowdy. Everyone mother had warned me of. She had warned me not to be so reckless but here I was, exactly where she predicted I’d be, amongst tramps and whores. Turning on my heel, I hurried outside. I could faintly hear someone yelling my name behind the pounding in my ears but I shook it off as my own subconscious.

It had gone pitch outside and I felt like a fool as soon as I got a few feet away from the shack. I knew I wouldn’t be able to find my way back even if I did find it, but I wasn't about to ask thieves for help. I stood there trying not to think of all that I had lost in that suitcase while the crickets fed the silence. It seemed that the longer I stood there the more loud the noise got. It lulled me so much that I found myself completely thoughtless until I saw a pair of bright white eyes peering at me from between the trees, they had black pupils and were round and very much human but I could'nt see a touch of skin only those terrifying eyes. 

“Hey come back inside...You’ll get eaten alive out here.”

I hadn't taken the time to translate what he had said in my mind. Instead, I snapped out a harsh, “No.” I didn't turn, I knew it was Eren and for some reason I didn’t want to look at him. Instead I wanted to just stomp off into the brush but those haunting eyes stopped me.

For a while we both stood there, me ignoring his presence and him, breathing steadily, soothingly. Until I wasn't afraid anymore. Just listening to another man's breath seemed to calm me a great deal. Maybe it was _his_ breath.

“Levi? Levi….Levi?”

How many times had he said my name? I had begun to lose count, my mouth was sore and numb and suddenly I was too tired to respond. His hand went out to my shoulder and it drew breath into me.

“What?” I asked turning so that we were face to face once again.

Maybe my tone was a bit too snippy. Afterall, it wasn't him who had up and stolen my suitcase. Though still instead of being angry with me his face contorted into one of the most pure sincerity.

“What happened, I thought we were having a good time?” He said softly. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt hot hands at my side again, calloused fingers moving to unbutton my shirt.

“Arrête!” I gasped and slapped his hand away in disgust but he only reached forward again.

“Now stop hitting. You’re drenched in sweat. You’re probably suffering sum’ down right terrible heat stroke.”

Heat stroke, I groaned. That's probably what the eyes in the bushes had been about. Eren chuckled as he slid my shirt down off my shoulders and handed it to me. It was yellow and damp with sweat which made the muscles in my fingers knot in discontent.

“Come on back inside. We’ll fix you up with some water.”

I shook my head. “My suitcase..” I stammered a few times as he stared down at me in confusion.

Huffing in frustration I stepped away from him and walked back towards the door. “Gone!” I finally exclaimed as I passed the threshold, this time pushing through the crowd to show Eren the exact spot where I had left it. From behind me I heard him bellow with laughter.

Which only made my anger glow alight all over again.

“How dare you-” I began in my native tongue before Eren walked behind the bar and pulled my suitcase right up on top of it. Leaving my mouth pinched in a straight line of embarrassment. I quickly took it and he propped his elbows up onto the freshly polished bar. The bar itself, was probably the only thing in the place that looked half maintained.

He looked at me with a wolfish grin that made my jaw clench in a stone like way, a stone trying so hard not to crack under the heat and pressure of that sly smirk. First he poured some water for me, from a pitcher and watched me practically inhale every drop. Then without a word he reached under the bar, pulling out a mason jar with clear amber liquid. He put it down on the counter top and then grabbed a glass from under the bar, tossing it in the air only for it to flip back onto the palm of his hand where he filled it to the brim. 

I rolled my eyes when I heard whistles and noticed I had been smiling ever so lightly at the entertainment. Despite that his grin only grew all the more mischievous as he slid the glass over to me, leaving a wet trail between us.

I looked down at the gold drink and bit my lip, letting my finger drag over the rim. It looked like an invitation. When I glanced up to see Erens eyes staring at me expectantly lifted the glass to my lips. My eyes flickered up to Eren only for me to be caught like fly in a web, Erens mismatched gaze smoldered me to my stool and I was left with wide hypnotized eyes.

“Hey Mr. Levi!”

Two pigtails waddled from beside me and ducked behind the bar to pull on Erens sleeve. My eyes darted and I slammed the glass of liquor down like a sinner being caught in the act behind a church.

Erens reaction was similar. He straightened up and the smoldering stare was wiped clean from his face.

“Isabel! What in the hell!”

I should’ve been happy she was here. Eren was sure to send her home from here and I should’ve been more than happy to join her. Though for some reason all I could think about was drinking that honey in a glass and dancing to Row’s saxophone, with that warm feeling on my hips until the sun came up. I hadn't even tasted sin yet I could feel it buzzing white hot in my chest. I looked down at the hand gripping my suitcase, visualizing the bible that was tucked away beneath all my luggage inside. Hoping that it would someway ground me but in the end that’s not what got me away from the party and from Eren.

“Farlan just told me Eren. I ran all the way here fast as I can. Ya’ll better clear out..”

Suddenly Eren was jumping up onto the counter and cupped his hands round his mouth. “Alright folks, Partys over! The law is on its way and none of you want to be here when it shows up.” he yelled over the music and a few moments later bodies were scattering in each direction.

There was a great bang and everyone ducked. I watched as Eren made Isabel duck down and hide underneath the counter with the ale, before getting back up on the bar to see what all the commotion was about.

A tall bald man in a police uniform stepped forward. The party goers made a path for him which lead directly to Eren. Whom was still perched up on the bar. He hopped down with a thud that made the floor shake with brawn power. “Good Evening Officer Shadis. What brings you to these parts, sir?” Eren asked as he leaned back against the counter.

Shadis chewed on a thick wad of tobacco before spitting it down between them. Erens body tightened but all he could come to do was glare at the apathetic bald man.

“There’s quite a commotion on the Smith’s plantation. Mister Smith's wife was ‘spectin her French cousin to be shipped in today. Noon day train comes and he ain’t nowhere to be found. I’ve been searchin’ this town head to toe for that boy but something don’ tells me that you got a hold of ‘im. Probably trying to brainwash ‘im with your negro lovin’ culture.”

As Shadis spoke, Erens face turned from tan, to pink, then to a bright maroon. Even if my English wasn't perfect, anyone could tell that the officer was talking down to him. Though Eren was braver and stronger, I could see the flame in his eyes. I figured if he kept it up Eren would break a blood vessel but finally the brunette exhaled to let out some of the built up steam. “Levi?” 

I stepped forward with a deep frown, another condemned criminal stepping towards the guillotine. Finally, when I felt free, when all I wanted to do was dance the night away. That's when they'd find me.

“Good evening, Mr Ackerman..” The officer chided with a fake smile that sent a shiver down my spine. His hand went to clamp onto the back of my shoulder, knocking me forward a bit and kicking the breath out of my lungs. Then it all rushed to me, how I must have looked in that very moment. Drenched in sweat, anxious of all the eyes that were heavy on me, (in my undershirt, might I add) and dreadfully aware that I had spoiled any chance of a good reputation if word got out of me in this state. An Ackerman at a southern speakeasy. My mother really would have my head if she found out, or moreover it was a matter of _when_ she did find out. I could only hope my cousin would show me more mercy.

As the officer led me towards the door, I heard whispers of my name and of Hanjis but also of her husband Erwin. They think that Mr Smith will kill me for fraternizing with negroes and he might but first. I stopped dead in my tracks and the officer nearly ran into my back.

“Now, Mr Ackerman we must hurry to get you home…” 

“Whats a negroe?” I asked.

My eyes subconsciously drifted to Eren, who was leaning against the bar with a scotch in one hand, and the other in his thick hair. He must have sensed my stare because moments later his eyes flickered up. He blinked but only a single eye, which was something strange I’d never seen.

Then the officer made a sharp movement, grabbing a girl and pulling her to the center of the clearing the crowd had made where we stood. Erens stance had changed, he had put the glass down and pushed himself off the counter. 

The girl's eyes were down in shame, the strap of her dress was falling, only making her look that much more vulnerable.

“See her face, Mr Ackerman? It’s dirty and nothin’ this side of the south will clean her. That's a negroe, people born in dirt. Barely human..”

 “Mr Officer...Your skin...” I pointed to his arm, making him let her go, to take a look. I could hear her hiccups and sobs of drunken embarrassment as she snuck away while she could. “It’s darker than mine, does this mean you’re a negroe too?” I asked, truly curious. My gaze fixed on Eren as he hid a small smile of approval. 

“Now that's just a sunburn Mr Ackerman. I’m going to have to ask you to remain silent until we’re clear out of here now..” he dipped his jaw to my ear as he cupped my shoulder. “I know you’re a gentlemen but these people are savages and my job is to get you home without a scratch.”

 

Twenty minutes later the cop and I were driving through the town which was completely dark. I could'nt help but feel lucky that I had gone out to the hidden bar. The officer had explained to me how secret and ‘dangerous’ the speakeasy was but I didn't feel a drop of real regret. Maybe I regretted the repercussions and being caught but not being there.

Around eleven at night we stopped at the police station, Shadis wished me goodnight and got off of his shift. Another officer took his place and quickly introduced himself as Officer Church. He was tall and fair with neatly combed blonde hair, parted to the side. His suit looked just as sharp as the businessmen I'd seen earlier.

“You’re just how Izzy described you.” he said after a short silence.

“Isabel?”

“Yeah, Isabel..”

We started driving into fields identical to the ones I’d seen earlier. I couldn't help but stare at the window in awe. This place was just fields and heat, no wonder everyone acted so strange towards one another, they had all probably gone mad. What other reason would my mother send me off than to rot away? Somewhere far away so I couldn't burden her any longer.

“Whatever Shadis said to you, take it with a grain of salt. I know I’m not one to be educating but that man is useless as a box of bolts with worn tracks. He can’t do anything right by himself.”

The next thing I noticed about Church was his grammar. He had an accent but it wasn’t the same as everyone else's. It was much easier to understand. I only nodded to his words.

“Is slavery over, here?” I asked, finally turning to look at him.

He kept his eyes on the path of his headlights as he flicked off the radio.

“Yes and No.”

After a long silence I assumed there was no explanation to any of this. That I’d just have to wade through my confusion and maybe one day it would click. Then finally he explained further.

“I'm from up North. Slavery is over where I’m from but here, white men and black men alike are slaves.”

He didn’t say anything more than this but I knew he was warning me. That's when I made the only decision of my life that had any purpose. I would not be a slave, not to my mother, or to my home.

“I must go North then…”

As we pulled up to the looming, pillared mansion titled the Smith estate, he chuckled in a lifeless way. “People don’t just _go_ North…”

“Then why are you here?” I asked.

He gave another solemn silence. “For the same reason that the Jaeger's are here and the smartest thing for a fella’ like you to do is to keep your head down and your nose out. I have to ask that you don't associate yourself with the Jaeger's again either way Mr Ackerman. That's as much of a request as it is advice.”

“Why?”

He left me unanswered. Got out of the police car, then escorted me to the front door.  A fair skinned maid opened the door though a maid with a darker complexion was at her side. Suddenly, their exotic faces haunted me. 

The blonde maid, ushered us inside, insisting on taking the officer's jacket and snapping at the other uniform to fetch me a glass of water. We stayed in place until she returned with a tall crystal glass on a silver platter. I quickly drank it and may have dribbled a bit on myself. I could feel a pair of smiling eyes on me as I wiped the wetness off my chin and I couldn't help but smile back at her.

Right before either of us could burst into inappropriate laughter, my cousin stumbled her way down the great staircase splitting the mansion down the center. Her husband was not far behind and didn’t look happy. Which erased any evidence that I had ever even learned how to smile in my lifetime.

“Oh Levi! I am so relieved to see you! I-I thought you had gotten lost or kidnapped or murdered!” Hange gasped as she wrapped her arms around me in a suffocating hug. I’d missed those. When we were young she was my dearest companion. It seems as the years passed, we both had changed so much yet stayed the same.

She had changed physically much more than I. I was the same height as I was when I was 15 on the day she left to marry her betrothed Smith.  She however had gained a few inches of height that I was very conscious of, as well as a pair of breasts I hadn't remembered or noticed before. Consequently they were in my face and it was turning red rapidly.

“Now darling, calm your dramatics. He’s safe and unharmed, thank God. I’ve had a very long word with the chauffeur in charge of his arrival.”

The way he spoke made him sound like he didn’t care, I would even go as far as to call it sarcasm. When Hange pulled away she also pulled a gasp out of me. She was in her night clothing, a long amber satin nightgown and complimenting robe, her face red from tears yet still just as youthful as…

“Kuchel?..”

“Why, your mother? Now Levi don’t insult me in my own home.” she sniffled through a doily stitched tissue. Her french accent, it wasn’t even there any longer. Her hair fell in magnificent dark brown curls that fell past her shoulders. It used to be a mangy ponytail and she no longer wore the goggle-like glasses the physician had given her when she was six. They had been replaced with a pair of elegant half moon spectacles. She didn’t even look like she was from the same genetic pool as the younger version of herself.

“You are _dazzling_ , cousin.”

Hanji smiled as she walked to embrace me, “Oh now Levi, don’t tease me. I am still as unorganized as ever, in all my endeavors, I fail to come close to ‘dazzling’. But- Now, tell me about this suspicious bar you’ve gotten into?” She asked and leaned towards my jawline, close enough that I could feel her breath on my nape. “I’ve just been burning up with worry ‘and’ curiosity on the subject.”  Like Farlan and Mr. Zacharius, Hanji’s language wasn’t chopped up and confusing, if anything it was charming. A rich accent that refused to go without being listened to.

Erwin somehow, keeping up with both conversations; cleared his throat to interrupt. “Excuse me darling but it is very late. Levi is our newest addition to the home and I’d like to get him settled in before midnight. Never mind the likeliness that the poor boy is exhausted and traumatized from his experiences. Fraternizing with ex slaves and bootleggers... I’d be horrified.” he said this all in a neutral way which again came to prove that he didn’t give a bit about what had happened, he just wanted to get this over with. It was almost like an acting show. “I’ll have to ask that a maid come and show him to his quarters, while my wife and I retreat to our suite to discuss her cousins behavior and how it will be dealt with. Thank you so very much officer for your help this evening, we bid you a goodnight.”  

 Erwin turned on his heel and finally let his facade slip when the officer Church was out the door. His polite smile sank into a muted straight line, his eyes flickering to his wife as a finger pointed to a maid standing by the base of the massive staircase; and trailed to me. The maid quickly moved out of her chess square on the king's command and took my luggage, coaxing me up the stairs and towards a maze of corridors on the left end of the mansion.

My room was quite larger and more expensive than I expected. Royal varnished paintings hung in golden frames, the candleholders mounted to the wall were gold, as well as the detailing of my bedframe. Dark green tassels hung from all the furniture in the room and a giant satin bed was placed in the center of the room, completing the atmosphere of wealth and grace.

I requested that the maid draw me a hot bath and she complied which made me feel strange. Back at home baths were ritualistic but I had always had to do everything himself. The baths here were different though. Not the kind you had to boil water for but the new technology kind that involved pipeworks, after taking a peek I found that they were gold as well.

Steam clouded around my body as I stripped away my clothes and sank into the hot bath. It soothed me and allowed the jumbled thoughts in my mind to flow free in their wake. What had happened today? Had I made a mistake that I would regret as long as I'd be staying here? I had disappointed Hanji and her husband. I sullied our family name.

These worries had me breaking a sweat until suddenly a certain pair of enchanting green eyes invaded the forefront of my mind.  “Eren.” I whispered and smiled, sinking my back into the water until the glassy surface lapped at my chin.

_At some point in the dead of that night all I could hear was screaming._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raise your hand if you caught the HP reference


End file.
